Back In Time
by MarauderGirl777
Summary: Hermione and Draco are Head Boy and Girl in their seventh years, after the war is over. However, Headmistress McGonagall wants them to go back in time for a secret mission... What could it be? Dramione  main , HermionexSirius.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **This is a Harry Potter fic that I started a while back, so I decided to post it. I most likely WILL continue it, but if I don't, please don't rage. D: **  
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**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters within the series or this story. I only own the plot. And I'm not J.K Rowling.

And I'm not British. Waah.

_**Back In Time**_

_**Prologue.**_

The rain hurtled through the sky, casting its anger down upon the metal holding the rickety train together. The metal rumbled with disapproval, making it almost impossible to hear from inside the locomotive. Hermione always found it better to just sit there and read, rather than make an attempt at conversation. Plus, she didn't particularly like the person she ended up having to share a compartment with.

In fact, she spat upon the ground he walked upon. And though they had joined sides after Voldemort was defeated, they still had a loathing for each other, and curses and insults were flung at the mere sight of the other. They were being surprisingly civil, at the moment; Hermione sat there, reading the pamphlet McGonagall had given them earlier and paying no mind to him, while he sat there engrossed with writing in his own little black book. The compartment they occupied was special; it was the _Heads' _compartment.

Hermione was delighted to hear she had been chosen as Head Girl for her seventh year at Hogwarts. Her face immediately became sour when she heard Malfoy was Head Boy. When Hermione was told she was to report to the Heads' compartment, she travelled down the long halls, towards the back of the train. She finally found the compartment, which seemed larger than all the others, and when her hand reached for the handle to slide the door open, another hand reached for it at the same time, and they touched. Hermione looked up to see the handsome blonde, and immediately both teens jerked their hands back as if the other had a disease.

"Jesus, Granger! Keep your filthy hands off of me!" he spat. He was rubbing his hand on his pants, as if someone had sneezed all over them.

"Get over yourself, you git," she hissed back, although she was wiping her own hand on her jeans, rather discreetly. "It was an accident, and besides, aren't a ferret's senses supposed to be sharp?"

"Why don't you get a new joke, Granger?" he growled, that infamous arrogant smirk plastered across his lips. "That joke had gotten quite old over three and a half years."

"Insecure now, Malfoy? Have I hit a nerve?" Hermione folded her arms over her chest, her own small smirk crossing her face. Draco was about to open his mouth to retort, when McGonagall **_POOFED_** right in between them. They jumped back, and Hermione let out a small squeak.

"I apologize for frightening you, Miss Granger," McGonagall said briskly, before opening the door to the compartment and motioning for them to enter. They did as they were told, and looked around when they stooped through the door. Hermione looked around in awe; the compartment was luxuriously decorated in maroon and silver; Gryffindor and Slytherin colors. The seats were red velvet, and looked impossibly soft.

Low, almost dim lighting engulfed the compartment, and red blinds with silver trims were closed on the window, keeping the room mostly dark. "Sit," McGonagall said, and the two sat, on opposite sides of the compartment. McGonagall stood between them, and she looked at them both. She finally said, "First off, I chose you two because you are two of the brightest students in the school. Second, you two are from completely different houses, almost enemy houses, if you could call it that."

Hermione nodded, casting a small glare at the blonde across from her. She found his eyes to be just as filled with loathing, as well. "I also chose you two because you two are known to be quite uncivil, and disrespectful to one another. So, this year is also a test, to not only you, but to your houses as well. You both know very well that you are an example for the students in your houses, and will follow your actions. Therefore, this is a test to try and put House Unity into effect."

McGonagall held out a pamphlet to them both, and Hermione took the pink booklet into her hands. The title said, 'Guide to Head of House.' She scoffed at the poorly-chosen title, and looked up at McGonagall. "Those are your rulebooks, I expect you to have them read by the time you get to the castle. I would also, if you two can bear it," there was a hint of disapproval in the woman's voice. "Like for you to stay in this compartment. If at all possible."

With that, she disappeared with a POP, and left the two alone. Instead of looking at him (for she knew it would start another fight, which she didn't feel up for at the moment), she turned to her travel bag, and pulled out her robes. "I'm going to change, so I don't have to later," she said without further comment, and left the compartment in the direction of the bathrooms.

She soon returned, her modest jeans and black shirt replaced with her uniform, which consisted of a gold and red plaid skirt, a white blouse with her black vest lined with red and gold over it, and her Mary-Janes. Her long robe was draped over her, and she looked rather plain.

She settled herself down in her seat, and began reading the pamphlet thoroughly. She was only halfway through the pamphlet, about half an hour later, when she glanced at the blonde. He had put away the pamphlet and was writing something in a little black book. She dropped her hands (and the pamphlet) in her lap, slightly irritated. "How did you get finished so quickly? The Headmistress clearly stated-"

"I know what she said, Granger," he broke in, not even looking up from his black book. "I'm not stupid. I have a memorization charm I like to use for things like that." he quickly tapped his quill to his head for emphasis. "It's all up here, like I memorized it."

Hermione's eyes widened. She couldn't believe he actually knew a spell she didn't. Biting her lip and deciding the need for a break from the boring pink booklet was greater than the need to keep away from him, she quietly asked, "Could you teach it to me?"

He looked up from the book. It was then Hermione fully noticed the color of his eyes. They were a stormy grey-blue, the hue switching constantly so that one could not really identify which one it was, exactly. Hermione figured they had a time deciding his eye-color on his drivers' license. But then she remembered that he was a wizard and had no reason for something like a car or a driving license.. She peered even closer, eyes squinting, and saw the it seemed clouds were constantly rotating around the pupil, a stormy, electric grey-blue.

"Something on my face, Granger?" he asked, and she shook her head, blinking several times.

"What?" she asked, voice sounding rather dumb.

"I asked if there was something on my face, since you seem to have a hard time tearing your eyes away from it. Or am I really that good-looking?" he said, a devilish smirk playing at his lips.

She huffed, glaring at him. "I won't even go into detail on how ugly you are. For now, I think I'll be content to just go to the loo and vomit."

"Saying things like that won't be your ticket to learning that spell, Granger." Draco's smirk only grew wider. Hermione turned red in the face, and glared, but stayed quiet.

"Flick your wand like so," he said lazily, drawing his wand and swishing it, before jabbing at the air. "And then say, 'Memerio Revelio.' And then touch the pamphlet."

She repeated his wand motions, saying, "Memerio Revelio." She then touched the booklet, and information flooded her brain. Everything she'd been studying for the past half-hour was clear as a bell, as was the rest of it.

"Do I hear a thank you, Granger?" he scowled at her.

"I, er- Thank you." she said awkwardly, returning his scowl. A pink blush rose to her cheeks at the look he gave her. He continued to stare for a moment, expression unreadable. It was then she took the opportunity to study him.

His platinum blonde hair fell into his mysterious eyes, much like the way it did in their third year, maybe a bit longer; it made him look even more enigmatic than usual. His eyes, as described before, pierced her in a way nothing else had. She felt as if he could even see through her clothes; the thought made her cross her legs and pull her cloak more tightly about her. His bone structure was impressive; his jaw was finely drawn, high and imperial, yet strong. He was cleanly shaven, and smooth, from what she saw. His nose was not large, nor was it too thin, yet it was not petite enough to have a girly essence to it. His lips, were very kissable. Not too thin, but not too thick, they permanently rested in a luscious pout or debonair smirk.

"You're staring again, Granger." he said, and she snapped out of another daze she was apparently in, though she did not know it. "Honestly, you look like you're undressing me with your eyes. It's quite flattering, though don't think a mudblood like you could ever touch me, much less see me nude."

Hermione snarled, and resisted the urge to hex him. "Shut your trap, Malfoy. You're the last person I would want to see naked, and-"

"Who would be the first? _Weasley?" _he scoffed, an evil smirk on his face. "Honestly, Granger, even _you _could do better than that."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Hermione screeched, standing up abruptly. Draco peered at her, eyes dancing with amusement.

"What do you think it means?"

"I'm.." she blinked, face turning blank. "I'm not sure."

She was frustrated with herself. Never in her life had Hermione Granger's mind gone blank like it just did. She was befuddled, and for the first time in her life, she felt stupid. She soon snapped out of her daze, and was walking out of the compartment before she knew what she was doing. She walked along the halls, looking for a compartment that wasn't completely full. She finally decided on a compartment that was almost empty; only Ginny and Luna resided in the seats.

"Hello, girls," she said, sitting down next to Ginny, across from Luna.

"Hey, Hermione!" Ginny smiled brightly, giving her a bear hug. Choking, Hermione returned the hug cheerfully. "I heard you made Head Girl, congrats," said the red-head.

"Oh, thanks Ginny," Hermione's face fell. "But I don't exactly think this will be a good year for me."

"Why?" asked Luna.

"Well, Head Boy is.. _Malfoy." _Hermione scowled.

"Oh, don't worry Hermione," Luna smiled reassuringly. "Father predicted he'll be eaten by Nargles soon."

Hermione and Ginny looked at her as if she'd grown another head. Luna merely continued reading the latest 'Quibbler' with a small knowing smile on her face.

"In any case, I would let Malfoy get to you this year." Ginny said, patting Hermione's shoulder.

"I could try.." Hermione frowned. "McGonagall did say for us to act civil. Maybe he'll give it a try, too."


	2. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters within the series or this story. I only own the plot. And I'm not J.K Rowling.

And I'm not British. Waah.

_**Back In Time**_

_**Chapter One.**_

The carriage ride to the castle proved rather uneventful for Draco. McGonagall did not require him to share a carriage with Granger; which proved to be a double-edged sword. Though he hated the wench, he could help but think that she would be a better conversation than Crabb and Goyle, even more so than Pansy, even if the conversations would be made of insults and crude humor. He also even managed to convince himself that she looked rather attractive.. for a mudblood.

"Oh, shut up, will you?" Draco finally snapped, and Pansy and Goyle's argument over what color robe Draco looked better in paused.

"Honestly, you two, find something better to talk about than my wardrobe! Better yet, don't talk AT ALL!" he shot them looks, and they instantly quieted under his icy stare. Rolling his eyes, he shifted back towards the small dusty window, cold eyes shifting over the grime around the edges, looking at it disdainfully. He would have lifted a finger to wipe some of the grim off to clear the window so he could see, but he didn't want to get his hands dirty, especially not with some substance as horrid-looking as what was on that window.

Draco thought of Granger's side-kicks. Pot-head and Weasel. He snorted at the names. He came up with them himself; he thought them very clever. Though it was officially Potter who'd defeated the Dark Lord, Granger was the one he knew the best. He didn't really know why. Maybe it was because Granger was the one who had punched him in the face in their third year.

He shrugged to himself. _'Either way, Granger,' _he thought to himself, _'This year, I'm not going to let you out-do me.. filthy mudblood.'_

The carriage jolted, and he lurched forward, almost falling face-first into Crabb's lap. He caught himself in time, making it look graceful at the same time. He stood abruptly, and moving the others out of the way, he opened the door to the carriage and hopped down. He looked around. It was night-time. The sky was a navy blue, no clouds in sight. Stars sprinkled the sky lightly, little white twinkles spread across the vast plane.

He disregarded them, for he had no interest in them, and looked at his surroundings. The castle was essentially the same as it had been before the war; the only things that looked different were different charred parts of the ground, a few unnoticable parts of the castle being chipped, from the battle. The Whomping Willow was also charred in a few places, and many of its branches were cut off. Draco shook his head. He remembered the battle vividly. It made him shudder, thinking about it. He dismissed the thoughts and moved on.

_'Granger, Granger.. Where the hell are you?' _he thought agitatedly, as he stalked closer to the castle, along with the hordes of other students. First-years were all in the boats, so he needn't worry about directing anyone to the Great Hall. However, finding Granger was proving more troublesome than he thought. Finally, he saw her. He rolled his eyes when he saw the goody two-shoes doing her job, standing tall and directing any confused second or third years in the right direction. He walked up to the statue she was standing on, looking up at her.

"You know, Granger," he said, loud enough to be heard over the hordes of students passing by, "You're too much of a goody two-shoes for your own good."

She looked down at him, and upon the meeting of their eyes, the scowl on her face disappeared; she took on a trance-like look, staring at him. He gazed back up at her for a moment, and noticed the hues of her eyes. The orbs held a golden-honey color to them, sparkling and bright, vibrant with life.

He wondered what kinds of emotions those eyes would hold if he upset her. He decided not to look too much into it. He wanted this year to be a relaxed year for him. Since his father and mother were imprisoned, he would be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas. He wondered if Granger would be doing the same. He didn't know about her parents; all he knew was that they were muggles.

Filthy muggles.

He finally broke the staring contest, and the last of the students were shuffling in the giant double doors of the castle. Draco looked away, Hermione hopping down from the statue. He cast her a look, before the pair headed through the doors, the doors closing magically behind them. They entered the Great Hall, Hermione taking her seat at the Gryffindor table as Draco strode to the Slytherin section. McGonagall stood, and walked around the long staff table, taking her place behind the elegant podium facing the tables of students. "Welcome," she said, her face the usual serious, wide-eyed look. "For all first years, welcome. For all second years and up, welcome back. As you all know, except first years, the Forbidden Forest if off-limits. Remember students, O.W.L.S and N.E.W.T.S are at the end of the year, so study hard.

"Our Head Boy and Girl this year are Draco Malfoy from the Slytherin house, and Hermione Granger from the Gryffindor House. Please stand." With a grunt, Hermione stood to her feet, from her place in between Harry and Ron. She saw Draco stand as well, and refused to look at him as the students applauded them. They all seemed rather nervous; she supposed they expected Malfoy and herself to make a mess of things. _'Like we're _that _immature,' _she snorted to herself. _Well.. Maybe he is, but I'm not.'_

After a moment, she felt his eyes on her, and she abruptly sat down, looking around warily. Harry leaned over and asked what was wrong in a hushed voice. Hermione only replied, "Nothing," and smiled at him sadly. His face never looked the same, after the battle. He pretended to be happy to comfort Ron and Ginny, and perhaps herself, but she knew deep down he wasn't truly happy. He was hollow. And what hurt her the most was that she didn't know how to help, how to fill that hole. And she figured neither Ron or Ginny did, either. Either that, or they had no idea how unhappy he really was. She didn't think much of Ron; he probably did think Harry was happy. He never really knew how to distinguish the emotions of others. Ginny, however, was another story. Being Harry's girlfriend, Hermione thought the red-head would know. And maybe she did, maybe Hermione was wrong.

But she doubted it. Hermione was seldom wrong.

Hermione didn't bother paying attention to the rest of the speech. When the food came, however, she absent-mindedly picked at the small group of food she'd put on her plate. She drained her goblet, twice. Ron noticed her lack of appetite. "Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked through a mouthful of food. Hermione shook her head, telling him nothing was wrong, but her eyes betrayed her; they flickered up to rest on the back of Malfoy's head, and as if he knew she was looking, he turned, giving her a smug smirk. Her heart began beating erratically at the sight of his perfect, platinum blond hair falling over his eyes they way it did in their third year, at the perfect angle. However, her eyes were fierce, fire lighting in the pupils as she glared at him.

It appeared he noticed her feathers being ruffled, for his smirk became wider, all the more smug. This made Hermione even more agitated.

Baby blue inquisitive eyes switching back and forth between Hermione and the blonde, Ron said, "Hermione, I know you hate Malfoy, we all do, but you don't have to look at him.."

Hermione shook her head, jerking out of her trance. She looked at Ron, puzzled. "I-I'm sorry, Ron, did you say something..?"

Ron rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "No." he muttered, before going back to shoving food down his throat. Hermione's eyes shifted to her plate, inspecting the food resting on it. Roast beef, carrots, potatoes, and corn. However good it tasted, Hermione had no intention of eating it. She was glad when she looked up and saw McGonagall motioning for her to come to the front. The small smile on her face faded when she saw Malfoy standing and making his way to the table, as well.

'_Figures,' _she thought. _'He's Head Boy, I'm Head Girl, I need to get used to it.' _She stood gruffly, and casually strode up to the teacher's table. McGonagall had stood, and was speaking urgently with Malfoy when Hermione approached. "Good, Miss Granger," the old woman had ushered Hermione into their little circle. "There's an important task that is the ulterior motive I have for selecting you two specifically for Head Boy and Girl."

"Which is, Professor?" Malfoy asked lazily, uncaringly.

"Hold on just one moment," she said, and bustled over to the podium. She clapped her hands, and every bit of the food abruptly disappeared. There were murmurs of protest, mostly because the protestors had their mouths full of food, but McGonagall waved them away. "You're all dismissed, go to your dorms!"

The scuffing of benches and scuffing of shoes was heard as the students lazily filed out the doors, to their common rooms. McGonagall then turned back to Draco and Hermione, her face slightly urgent.

Hermione was slightly alarmed. "What is this task you want us to do, Professor?" she asked.

"Well, Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy, you need to get to bed, so I'll give you a short briefing for tonight. This task I'm asking you to do— it's not going to be easy. It's going to take a lot of time and energy. And, for one thing, it is going to take a time-turner."

Hermione's eyes widened drastically, and she gaped at McGonagall. "We haven't used one of those since third year," she whispered.

"Excuse me, Granger?" Malfoy looked slightly bewildered. "Since when have you used a time-turner?"

"How do you know about them?" Hermione's voice was low, as she turned her gaze to him, eyes wide.

"I've only read about them. The book said they're very rare," he pointed out. For once, his tone of voice wasn't haughty or degrading. Hermione didn't notice enough to appreciate it, though.

"Yes, we used a time-turner in third year, Harry, Ron, and I," Hermione replied in a hushed voice. "Dumbledore had assigned us a mission. But we had only gone around twenty-four hours in the past.."

"So we're using a time-turner?" Malfoy turned his attention back to McGonagall.

"I know you're curious now, but please don't let that deprive you of sleep. I'll call you into the Headmaster's office at lunch tomorrow and we'll discuss it further there."

"Alright, Professor," Hermione and Draco replied in unison. They shot each other a dirty look, and Hermione was the only one to think of asking McGonagall the password to the Heads' common room before leaving.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans." McGonagall replied, before dismissing them.

The whole way to the Heads' common room, Hermione and Draco were silent, both absorbed in their own thoughts. Both trains of thought led to the time-turner mission McGonagall was assigning them, and no matter how hard either of them tried, they couldn't keep their curious minds from wandering. That was one way in which Hermione and Draco were alike. They were naturally curious, minds constantly on the move, inspecting, observing, making conclusions, guesses.

"Granger, tell me your opinion on what this mission'll be," Malfoy said, finger tapping his chin in thought.

Hermione looked at him, bewildered. _'Since when has he ever asked my opinion for anything?' _she thought shrewdly, but dismissed it. "I-I don't know, really," she answered truthfully, letting her overactive brain take over. "Time-turner missions are usually dangerous, and they're normally used to alter the future, or to alter the past to change the future. There's no telling where McGonagall's planning to send us."

"I know it can't be something to do with Voldemort," Malfoy said thoughtfully, "Because all that is through, over with. Could it possibly be something to do with.. One of the order members?"

"I-It's very possible," Hermione replied tentatively.

Silence took power again, and only when they got to the portrait guarding the entrance to the Heads' common room did Hermione speak. "Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," she said confidently, and the portrait slid aside. Hermione gasped as she entered the common room; The large room was absolutely exquisite. It had a very high ceiling, with drapes hanging down everywhere. They were the colors of both Gryffindor and Slytherin, a royal maroon and silver. The couch was a soft, velvety material, as was the chair and the love seat. They were all crimson, with a silver trim. The coffee table was a silver metal, the glass shining and stainless.

"Beautiful," Hermione whispered, looking around in awe. When her eyes finally returned to normal level, she noticed Malfoy was gone. _'Must've gone to his room,' _she thought, her eyes still looking around her.

'_.. My room!' _she thought, and jumped, scurrying to her room. The door was on the far right of the large common room. She knew, because the door had a golden lion plaque on it. She looked across the room, and a silver snake plaque hung on a door like hers. _'Malfoy's,' _she thought, rolling her eyes.

She was actually quite surprised they seemed to be getting along somewhat normally. She wondered what Draco smoked before he came, to act anywhere near civil towards her. _'Must've been in the carriage,' _she snorted, before opening the door.

She gasped again. Her room was nearly as large as the main room, and the bed in the middle was big enough to fit five people comfortably. Her room was decked out in Gryffindor colors, a royal gold and crimson. Gryffindor banners and flags hung on the striped walls, and her bed's sheets and comforter were the same color red as the rest of the room, with a golden trim. Her room looked fit for a queen, or some other kind of royalty.

McGonagall must've gone through hell to get all those supplies and furniture. Hermione giggled at the thought, before leaping onto the bed and bouncing back onto her back. She looked up at the ceiling and saw that a single chandelier hung from it, crystals dangling from the golden metal frame. She cooed at it, staring at it for a few more moments.

Then she sat up, looking around quietly. She noticed a small window in back wall that the headboard of her large bed rested against. The window was merely a glass-covered hole in the thick stone wall. After peeking out the window and noticing she had a nice view of the lake (and the Whomping Willow), she headed for the door.

She found Malfoy sitting on the large couch in the main room, the part of the room that one entered when they stepped through the portrait. Behind the couches and the fireplace, three steps led up to a tiny kitchen area, with a bathroom right next to it. Hermione hadn't noticed that she didn't have a bathroom in her room.

'_Damnit, McGonagall!' _she thought agitatedly. _'Are you _trying _to put me through hell? We have to share a bathroom too?'_

Nevertheless, she poked her head into the mini fridge in the small kitchen area, before grabbing a banana.

"You just ate, Granger," she heard a smooth voice say from behind her. She looked back agitatedly to see Malfoy still reading his book, his eyes trained on the pages before him, on the couch. "You really eat that much?"

"Shut the hell up, you little ferret," she hissed, but put the banana back nevertheless.

"You really need to get some new insults," he commented. His face was drawn into a small smirk, though not once did he actually look at her. Hermione turned red in the face, scowling, before stalking back towards her room. She really wasn't in the mood for his smart mouth, no matter how attractive it was.

.. Wait, what? How attractive it was? It wasn't attractive! Not in the least! Hermione shook her head, growling. Why was she looking at Draco Malfoy's lips in the first place? They were nothing special, at all.

.. Okay, they were. They were extremely attractive, extremely kissable, and extremely appealing. She paused mid-step, halfway to her door, shaking her head at the thought. She glanced at him, and the book he held in his hands caught her interest immediately. "C.S Lewis..?" she questioned aloud.

For the first time since she'd entered the room, he looked up at her. "Yes, why? Something wrong with him?"

"N-No, he's one of my favorite authors," Hermione breathed, resisting a smile. "I-I just didn't know you of all people liked him."

His silver-blue, intense stare made her blush with embarrassment, and she could only take it for a few moments before she had to look away. "Me of all people?" his fine blonde eyebrows raised, as he shut the book after dog-earing it. "Do explain, Granger."

"Well," she growled, her temper getting the best of her, "You're despicable, evil, abusive, haughty, pompous, greedy, and selfish!"

"Ah, I may be everything you said.. But one." He sat up straight, casting the book aside, before standing, and hopping over the couch gracefully. He walked towards her, his gaze never once leaving her face. She turned redder, her fierce glare not wavering. He stopped when he stood not two feet from her, her nose barely coming to his shoulders. He stared down at her, gaze intense, yet not full of pure hate as it used to be.

"I may not like _you, _or _Pothead, _or the red-headed loser.." he stepped forward, pressing her against the counter beside the sink, on the other side of the kitchen, nearer to her room. Her lower back began hurting with the pressure the sharp edge of the counter applied, but she glared unwaveringly up at him.

"But I am _not_ evil." He growled lowly, glaring down at her. "My father forced me down that path. I never once wanted it." He pulled the sleeve of his collared white shirt up to show her the Mark he'd received from Voldemort, who'd passed away not too long ago. Though it was faded (from the dark wizard's death Hermione assumed), it was still there, the snake looking at her cruelly. Though it didn't surprise her, she still shivered, looking away after a few moments.

"You think I chose what I am," he whispered, hot breath hitting her face and making her turn red. "But I didn't. Don't say things about what you don't know."

After that, he quickly backed away, and turned, walking to the door to his room and slamming it shut behind him. Hermione's head tilted back and she let out the breath she'd been holding, the air passing through her trembling lips. Her whole body shivered, as she slumped against the counter, sliding down till she sat on the floor, leaning against it. She closed her eyes, arms wrapping around herself to keep herself calm.

"It's only Malfoy, Hermione, it's only Malfoy.." she whispered, though she didn't sound convincing enough to assure herself that he wasn't affecting her. But she knew that he'd scared her.. And opened her eyes at the same time. She didn't know whether to believe he wasn't truly evil, but his words were laced with hurt and anger. He'd obviously had it pent-up for a while. But she wondered… Was he truly not a bad person?

She kept her focus on keeping herself calm, so she didn't realize just how tired she was. The day had drained her completely, of her strength, her will, and especially her tolerance. She didn't realize she'd fallen asleep, and remained motionless as blackness consumed her.

xXx

"Wake up, Granger," Malfoy said, poking the girl's limp body. His eye twitched when she fell over, head almost hitting the floor. He'd found her asleep, leaning against the counter he'd backed her up against earlier. It was past midnight, he'd only gotten up to use the bathroom, and he noticed her on the floor, almost right next to it.

"Wake _up_, Granger!" he hissed, poking her side. She stirred slightly, mumbling a few things before curling up into a ball on the floor.

Draco sighed. "_Jesus, _Granger," he muttered, glaring agitatedly at her. "I don't want to touch her, but I can't just leave her." He whispered to himself. "I want to, but I can't. She'll have my ass for that."

Sighing again, he grabbed her, and hauled her up into his arms none too gently."Must be a heavy sleeper." He mumbled when she didn't stir. He padded quietly to the door of her room, before kicking it open. He quickly strode to her bed, and laid her down on it, before straightening and looking at her. After a moment, he quickly and carelessly pulled a blanket over her.

He wiped his hands on his boxers, before brushing them along his bare chest, as if to get dirt off of it. "Ugh.." he wrinkled his nose distastefully. "Mudblood.." he stared at her for another moment before leaving, closing the door behind him.

As he settled himself into his own bed, pulling the ebony comforters and silver sheets over his body, he stared at the ceiling. "I wonder what this mission's going to be," he thought aloud, shifting slightly under the sheets. He turned on his stomach, legs sprawled out over the large bed, burying his face in his pillow. _'It's going to be interesting, that's for sure.'_

xXx

The next morning proved to be bright, sunny and cloudless, which bothered Hermione. She threw things at the window, breaking her alarm clock which was previously going off, and muttered curses at the sun. "Go away!" she growled in frustration, face buried in her pillow. "Just turn off, will you?"

Finally, she looked up, resigned to her fate, and her eyes widened when she noticed her clock on the ground. "Crap," she muttered, sitting up and rubbing her head. She realized then that she was still in her clothes from the night before.

That was when she remembered passing out against the cabinet in their mini kitchen. But if she passed out there, how did she get in her bed? Did she sleepwalk or something? Half wake up in the middle of the night? She seriously doubted that, but it was far more plausible that someone else waking up and carrying her. She thought of the blonde hair, and shuddered, shaking her head.

Her eyes popped open. "What time is it?" she wondered aloud, panic suddenly rising in her chest. She immediately scrambled off the bed, lunging for the door. She swung it open, and ran into the kitchen, looking up at the large clock on the wall above the sink. 8:30, it read.

"SHIT! SHIT! I'M LATE!" she screeched, and began running around, slinging the fridge door open and grabbing a glass. She grabbed the milk, and poured it hastily, causing milk to slosh onto the floor. She drank a gulp before gathering her books on the table, organizing them. Only as she dashed for the bathroom door did she notice the snickering behind her.

She froze. The snickering became louder, and she slowly turned her head to look back at the source. Malfoy, with his best friend(if one could call him that) Blaise Zabini were sitting on the couch, looking at her with wide smirks on their faces. They were obviously laughing. Hermione turned a bright red, and whirled around to glare at them. "What the hell are you laughing at?" she yelled. "You're going to be late too, you little rats!"

"Granger, there's no need to yell.." Malfoy smirked widely, suppressing a chuckle. "That clock is an hour fast."

"How do you know?" Hermione demanded, hands on her hips.

"I have a clock." Malfoy said simply, and it grated Hermione's nerves even more. "You don't?"

"I do too!" Hermione began, but realized.. she broke her clock, throwing it at the window in her sleepy rage just earlier.

"Oh, I believe it's broken." Malfoy said smugly, before standing. Hermione noticed the same book he had the night before, resting in his grip. It was dog-eared again, closed. He tossed the book on the coffee table, before stretching. His limber body curved slightly, and Hermione was embarrassed to find herself staring at him. He smirked when he noticed her eyes on him, and Blaise stood after.

"Breakfast is at 8:30, Granger," he said plainly to her, before turning to head out the portrait.

Blaise followed, smirking smugly. "See you around, Mudblood." He said, before exiting after Malfoy.

Hermione scowled after them, before running a hand through her wild, wavy hair. She sighed, looking at the clock again. Subtracting the extra hour, it was 7:34. Almost an hour to get ready to go to breakfast. Her clothes fell to the floor rapidly as she barged into the bathroom, turning the water on and letting it warm up. After it turned hot, she stepped into the steaming water.

In fifteen minutes flat she was out of the shower, and in her room, throwing her normal uniform onto the bed. She noticed a small badge and a note on her bedside table, and she donned her black skirt, white collared blouse, she slipped on her grey sweater vest, with gold and red lining and the Gryffindor seal on the front. She then pulled on her favorite shoes, and hurried to her bedside table. She glanced at the parchment, and recognized McGonagall's scrawly handwriting.

Miss Granger,

This is the official badge of the Head Girl.

You must wear it every day, with exception of special occasions.

Wear it with pride.

McGonagall

Hermione crumpled the note up and threw it away, before grabbing the badge and quickly pinning it to her sweater vest. She then glanced at herself in the mirror, spell-drying her hair. It fell in soft curls down her back, to just beneath her shoulder blades. She was thinking of cutting it, much to her parents' dismay.

.. Her parents.. Hermione missed them. At least they were safe, she could count on that. There was no more threat to the muggles, after Voldemort had passed away.

Shaking her head, she grabbed up her robes and her potions book, since it was her first class of the day. Honors potions, to be exact. She knew Harry and Ron had the same class, and she was relieved at the thought, but she was also confused. She didn't know how exactly they got into that class, but it definitely wasn't through anything _they _did.

However, good things also came with prices. _Malfoy _was in that class, and she would rather be anywhere but near him at the moment. Honestly, she didn't even know how she was going to put up with him the rest of the year, much less have to do a mission with him. Hermione wondered exactly how important the mission really was. She was having her suspicions, if he it had something to do with a time-turner..

She made her way to the Great Hall, potions books in hand. She took her place at the normal Gryffindor table, in between Harry and Ron. She didn't eat very much, just a muffin and some pumpkin juice. Ron and Harry were both stuffing their faces as much as they could. Were they having a contest or something?

'_Boys,' _Hermione thought, rolling her eyes. She finished her food and headed out of the Great Hall, not bothering to chat with the boys. They didn't seem very talkative, seeing as they had their mouths crammed full of food. Of course, that never stopped them before, but seeing as they didn't say a word to her, she just left. She headed into the dungeons, alone.

She got into the potions classroom, and Snape didn't bother to look up when she entered through the door. He was used to her coming in early; he merely ignored her. She sat down at a desk, and before she could set her books down, Snape drawled, "Miss Granger, you have a specific seat to sit in."

Before Hermione could ask which seat it was, he pointed a long, bony finger to a desk in the back, middle row. The tables were meant for pairs. Hermione sighed a bit, and hauled her numerous books back to the desk. She pulled out her composition scroll, and began looking at notes from the previous year to refresh her memory. She couldn't focus on it for long, however. Her mind kept wandering to her oncoming mission, and the person with whom she was supposed to accomplish it.

Full details would be given at lunch today; she should have been worrying herself about it. But the curiosity was gnawing at her! She couldn't help but wonder what it was about.

xXx

The curiosity was eating at Malfoy just as much as it was her. Hermione could tell, because when he sat down beside her, he looked very distracted, as if he were trying to figure out something. Of course Snape had paired them up. They were the Heads, they were supposed to be together. Hermione rolled her eyes. She didn't see why they being Leaders made them spend every minute of the day together.

"I can tell it's eating at you too," Hermione whispered to him, while they worked on a memory potion, using Jobberknoll feathers.

He immediately knew what she was talking about, which confirmed her suspicions. "I can't figure out what we'd need to use a time-turner for!" he growled lowly. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

"I haven't either," Hermione replied thoughtfully. "I just want lunch to come around so we can find out."

"I wish I could figure it out myself," Draco said lowly, frustrated.

"The male pride thing." Hermione shook her head, rolling her eyes and letting a small smile cross her face.

Draco glanced at her agitatedly. "And females don't have the same problem..?"

"Hmph." Hermione frowned. "No we don't."

"Whatever, Mudblood." He scowled, trying to focus on the potion.

"Ferret," she hissed under her breath, adding another ingredient to the already lime green liquid. She felt his elbow hit her arm, and she knew it was intentional. She growled softly and elbowed him back, harder. His eyes were on her then; she could feel the icy stare. She didn't like it one bit. "Stop staring at me!" she hissed, glancing at him.

"Get over yourself, Granger, I'm not looking at you," came his gruff reply. "Look at Potter and Weasel."

Hermione frowned and followed the blonde's gaze to find that Harry and Ron were having a bit of trouble with their mixture. She elbowed Draco when she heard him snicker and he elbowed her back. Though she wanted to, she didn't hit him back; instead, she got up and made her way over to Harry and Ron. "You guys need help..?"

"Bloody hell, Hermione, give me a heart attack why don't you?" Ron jumped when he heard her voice. She offered him a sheepish smile before standing at the table between them. After a few moments, she realized what they were doing wrong and shook her head.

"You have to cut the roots a certain way," she scolded softly. "Obviously you did it all wrong."

"Well show us how to fix it then!" Ron pursed his lips, irritated. "Blimey, I can never get this shit right…"

Hermione stifled a giggle. "G-Go get another one from the supply room."

Ron trudged off to get the root needed. When he disappeared into the stock room, Hermione glanced at Snape at the front of the room before turning her head to look at Harry. He was frowning slightly. She nudged him with her elbow, asking quietly, "What's wrong, Harry?"

"I don't like the idea of you and Malfoy working together," he flatly said. His green eyes gazed at her intently. "He's up to no good, I can feel it."

Her lips curled into a frown. "I certainly don't like it either, but there's nothing I can do about it.." she sighed softly and set her hands on the desk before them, gazing at her fingers. "I'll definitely keep my distance the best I can.. But there's no avoiding the fact that I'll have to work with him."

Harry's lips pursed in a grim line. "Just.. watch your back, Hermione. I don't want anything happening to you."


End file.
